Yesterday, Major Dumlao for the first time talked to me since he became our Battalion Commanding Officer. He told me that he received news that George was back again in the hospital, this time more shell-shocked than ever. The CO at first felt reluctant to let me go, aware of my misconduct the week before. When he asked me if I really need to go, I said of course I need not have to, but that I would be very grateful if he will grant me the permission. At eight in the morning, he asked me why I wasn’t yet on my way to the hospital. He was really a swell guy – kind, friendly and understanding. I brought with me a pack of Piedmont, which I bought for five pesos. I knew George would be starved for cigarettes.
I went to three hospitals searching for George but he was nowhere to be found. Since the Philippine Army General Hospital was only a few hundred yards from the G-2, I took time out to visit Lt. Guerrero once more. This time, he showed me the script that had been read over the radio concerning us. I was sure that if Papa heard the broadcast he would know I was safe. I thanked Leonie for it. The members of the Tank Company were proud to hear of the script. Not finding George in any of the hospitals, I decided that the news was one of those exaggerated reports. I later found out it was just what I thought.
Our ration had been greatly reduced to water with a few drops of milk for breakfast and rice gruel for lunch and more of the same for supper in insufficient quantity. If we could only have boiled rice thrice a day! But were we not at war?
Today we started to send out a daily “patrol” of two to buy rice, meat or anything edible from the civilians in the mountains. We spent most of our money buying hot cakes made of rice flour, with no sugar, very little milk and no yeast. They were two inches in diameter and cost 30 to 35 centavos each. Nevertheless they “sold like hot cakes.”